I heard the tall grass
whispering,
gossiping,
spreading rumors of
spring,
even tho the ground is
hard with winter.
With ice underfoot
and my breath in the air,
Spring seems an unlikely
fable,
but I do so want to
believe.
When I travel by canoe, by bicycle, by crutch, by foot or by wheelchair I am part of this wide world I am in and of and with the ear...
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